Imagine a room full of writers, some new, some seasoned, some published, some fumbling around in the dark clutching for a morsel of insight into the big scary world that is publishing. Picture, if you will, the room is dim, glasses clinking. Someone tells a joke in the left hand corner, and the room erupts into boisterous laughter. Later someone sniffs into a half empty glass of watered down whisky, lamenting over his latest rejection. The room goes silent for a moment and an arm reaches out to clasp his shoulder.

“I’ve been there, bro.”

You might ask how an online group can feel like a room full of folks chuckling, debating, encouraging. There is a spark in The Phoenix Quill. A light that burns so bright it draws us like…